A love song that climbs that gable under the sunset.
Text: Yang Jieqing.
Autumn rain, after broken wings.
The crickets sing with a song and burn brightly.
Night lights. Soak and be cool.
Joy belongs to the noise of harmony.
The strings, played so loudly.
With what thoughts, make a neon dress.
Floating, the end of the rainbow disappearing.
Wish, polish the starry sky.
Insects have no wings and crawl out.
Hills. Chase a beam of light.
The cicadas have long since disappeared in the soil.
Sink into the night and accumulate hope.
The sun is the flag that never goes out during the day.
The past of the sprinkler has long been forgotten.
The still water flows deeply, and the ocean is full.
Reflecting the golden buildings.
Prop up a penny and walk out of the lake.
Pick up the sun. The disc is shiny.
A love song, from the deep alley**.
Climb all over, that gable at sunset.
The train, two hours late, bypassed.
Mountain city and water town. The shallots are mixed with the fragrance of tofu.
Floating around, gluttonous for whose stomachs.
It's a long journey, and it's not frustrating.
Hometown that sets foot on the land for only a second.
It is the warmest place in the heart.
Ice rain. Text: Yang Jieqing.
It rained overnight.
Whose thoughts are lit up by the sound of rain.
The wind blows up a piece of paper and burns the lines of poetry.
Withered branches, lonely and silently guarding a tree of hope.
The eyes are sharp, and the cutting is cold.
A bird's cry broke into the picture and moved the eyes.
The shoulders are overwhelmed.
The cold of a winter gathers into a loose chapter.
Wandering in the wind.
Flowers are blooming, and pain strikes.
The window that broke free from the shackles and greeted the sun.
The jointing of the bones touches yesterday's wounds.
Rainy days are destined for memorials and nostalgia.
Hold up the warmth and bury the sorrow.